


Cut Yourself on the Looking Glass

by SucculentStrawberries



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Porn, Blood and Injury, Body Worship, Canon Compliant, Costume Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enoshima Junko Being Enoshima Junko, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, False Identity, Femdom, Femslash, First Time, Humiliation, Hurt No Comfort, Identity Porn, Identity Swap, Ikusaba Mukuro-centric, Incest, Lesbian Sex, Loss of Virginity, Lust, Manipulation, Mild Blood, Mirror Sex, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Physical Abuse, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Role Reversal, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Secret Identity, Self-cest, Shameless Smut, Sibling Incest, Sister/Sister Incest, Smut, Spit As Lube, Spoilers, Swearing, Twincest, Unrequited Love, Vaginal Fingering, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24876316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SucculentStrawberries/pseuds/SucculentStrawberries
Summary: For the mission to succeed, Mukuro Ikusaba must look like, talk like, and behave like Junko Enoshima, or at least the Junko Enoshima her classmates perceive the Ultimate Model to be... But no matter how hard she tries, she can't seem to manage a perfect mirror. She's always a little off. An ugly, distorted reflection. Just as she's always been.Junko offers to help her with that. Especially when it comes to the most important part of being a convincing double and manipulating their classmates...Mukuro Ikusaba is getting everything she's ever wanted. And it's far more than she bargained for...
Relationships: Enoshima Junko/Ikusaba Mukuro
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	Cut Yourself on the Looking Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so I may be posting this during Pride Month but it certainly wasn't intended for it, haha. It was meant for FemFeb but I've been in a writing block that I've only managed to break through recently, so here this is. A very unhealthy mess. 
> 
> I love Despaircest and I love that it's actually canon. It's disgusting and horrific, as anything involving Junko should be c': 
> 
> As a note, I only know Mukuro from the first game, the IF novel, and a portion of the Zero novel (which I'm still reading through). Also one video I saw of the V3 anime clips that's a compilation of all the times she was horny for Junko. So I'm basing her characterization on a blend of all that and my own headcanons. I have not played through UDG or V/3 yet, nor have I watched any anime besides the THH adaptation. Don't tell me anything about those please, I'll get to them when I get to them.
> 
> That's all I have to say, besides to please heed the tags. Dead Dove is there for a reason! c':

"You're late, you worthless skank!"

The rage-filled screech came at exactly the same time as the taser aimed at her hip and the claws scrabbling for her eyes. She disarmed and evaded her attacker before another sentence could be uttered. Still, she did not retaliate even as her assailant drew another weapon, apologizing with each incoming swipe of a dagger that she dodged.

"I'm sorry for making you wait, Junko! So sorry! Please forgive me! Actually, don't forgive me! I deserve all of your scorn for my lack of punctuality!"

The blazing fury in her sister's eyes fizzled in an instant. In fact, the angry red flush that gave Junko's face any colour at all was fleeing, paleness and dark grey shadows distorting her features. Those distorted features were no less recognizable as Junko than the murderous beast who had fully intended to end her life, plan be damned, but she admired this version of Junko just as much.

Even if seeing such empty disappointment only made her feel worse. It rivalled the pit in her own stomach, to see such loss of energy when her sister had been so vibrant seconds ago.

"I'm bored." Junko announced, and if the girl had been able to summon an ounce of emotion at all, there might have been tears glimmering in her eyes, such was the horrible agony of listlessness she felt. "Your apologies bore me. Your pleas for punishment bore me.  _ You _ bore me."

"I'm sorry." And she was, even if her voice had fallen back into her usual monotone now that the rush of danger was over with. "Would you like to tase me? I'll give it back and let you go until it singes a hole in my flesh. Would that make you feel better?"

"No..." Junko sighed. "I was only going to tase you as a fucking alarm. Maybe if your bitch ass got electrocuted whenever you were late, you wouldn't keep blowing me off. I have to sit here all alone waiting on you, and you  _ know _ I hate waiting..."

"I know you do. I tried to leave on time, but-"

"Are you making  _ excuses?!? _ " Junko scoffed, narrowing her eyes. The crown upon her head made her seem even taller, and she strode forward with all the regality of a dictator, her voice booming around the media room. "We will not be kept waiting for anything! Or  _ anyone! _ " The queen sneered, shoving her shoulders until she dropped into a proper bow. "We saw on the monitors! The baseball star commanded more attention than Us! Tell Us, are We no longer important? Are We not the one who dared to grace you with purpose? Are We not most  _ merciful _ in tolerating your pitiful existence? Shall We feed you to the hounds and be done with it, soldier?!?"

"Of course you're important. You're the most important thing on this miserable planet. Nothing in the universe compares to you." she assured the queen between placing kisses upon her black boots, making sure to brush her lips against the dirtiest parts. Knowing that she had been forced to taste the filth of public school floors would certainly make Junko happy. It was not much despair, but it was a scrap of an offering she could bestow. "He wished to speak with me privately, and I felt it was in our best interest to play along. Your wish was for me to maintain my cover, wasn't it? Is that still your command?" 

She did not look up from Junko's shoes. That same shoe almost kicked her in the mouth as her sister moved to scuff it upon the floor, and had she not known Junko wished for this face to remain intact for now, she wouldn't have dodged. Judging by the aura radiating from Junko, her sister was simultaneously satisfied she'd followed orders, and disappointed that teeth hadn't been knocked out or a lip busted.

"It's still your command, you stupid dog." Junko grunted, examining sharp red nails. "So what'd that ginger fuckwad wanna talk to you about?"

"I'm… not certain."

Those nails were wrapped around her throat in an instant, pricking at flesh and dragging angry marks all the way up to poke into her chin. "Don't lie to me, Mukuro. Or I'll cut out your tongue and feed it to you. I'll use that herb you're allergic to to season it."

If that was the despair Junko wanted to inflict upon her, she would gladly force that tongue past her swelling throat. But right now Junko wanted an explanation, despite the fact that she could see and hear everything with the Monocams. Gently, so as not to break her sister's wrist, she pulled the hand off of her throat. "It didn't seem to be important. He had wanted us to go to the music room, but said he had forgotten something in his dorm. I went with him to retrieve it, and he droned on about trivial subjects. His searching skills are subpar. If I didn't know better, I would venture he wasn't trying. As soon as I found the object in question, I bid him farewell, and came here as swiftly as I was able."

"Oh my  _ GOD!!!"  _ Junko's groan of exasperation echoed from every wall in the room, and if this and the dorm rooms weren't soundproof, she would venture half the class would be bolting in right now. "I know you're a complete idiot, but I never imagined you could somehow top yourself! I mean, how can  _ anyone  _ be that freaking stupid!?! Even someone with no eyes and mush for brains could see it, and you were completely oblivious!!!"

"What did I miss, Junko?" She had analyzed every centimeter of that room, and if asked, she could recite her entire conversation with Leon Kuwata word for word. She had maintained her disguise, and only used words Junko would use when speaking to him. She had twirled her hair and giggled, and sassily pointed out how messy a boy's room was while she hunted for the missing object. But if Junko was disappointed in her, then all of her skills and efforts were useless. She had done something wrong, because Junko Enoshima was always right.

"He was  _ into you _ , you dumbass whore!" Junko snapped, reaching to yank on one of the blonde wig pigtails until her scalp was stinging. "Actually, he was into  _ me _ , so thanks a lot! Not only are you freaking stupid, you threw me under the bus too! Is that your super secret plan?!? To make everyone hate me?!?"

"No, of course not." She leaned away from the tugging, just to ensure Junko could pull harder and hurt her more. Maybe this wasn't enough suffering, when the wig could easily break from the hairclips. Maybe she should staple it to the skin next time instead. She'd keep that suggestion in mind, for one of Junko's gloomiest days. "I would never want anyone to hate you. You're going to be our supreme leader. Our queen. I want everyone to see you for who you are. The beautiful, brilliant bringer of despair."

That answer, while not quite seeming to satisfy Junko (as nothing ever did), did feed her ego enough that her chest puffed up. If Junko were any prouder, she may have to undo yet another button on that top. Perhaps she would give her more compliments, if needed. Unfortunately, Junko released her grip on the wig, and her vision of her sister was obscured by the heavy mass of hair that she was still getting used to.

"Y'know, I guess I can't blame you for not picking up on it…" Junko admitted, the picture of calm as she strode around the room. She had not been instructed to stand up, and so she remained crouched on the floor, brushing wig strands out of her eyes and listening intently. "I mean, it's not like anyone's ever been interested in your ugly ass before. No one's  _ ever _ cared about you, or wanted to fuck you- not even as a cheap toy. It's as foreign a concept to you as fashion or social skills. So it's not really  _ your _ fault you're so bad at this."

She wanted to cry. Tears were welling in her eyes with every sentence Junko spoke, and she quickly blinked them back.

Junko came back over to her, crouching down to pet her head, without tugging this time. " _ You wewre just bowrn unwuvable, that's all. _ .." Her sister cooed, in that cutesie voice of hers, and she'd never felt her face flush so hot so fast. 

Junko cared about her  _ so much _ , to say these things to her. To allow her an excuse for her failures. To give her an explanation that made perfect sense.  _ Why _ she was like this. Why despite being twins, she was  _ so different _ , so much  _ lesser _ than Junko Enoshima.

Junko cared about her. Junko loved her, or came as close to loving as Junko Enoshima could come, anyways.

She wasn't special, but she was  _ special _ to Junko. Junko would have killed anyone else on the spot for this. But Junko wasn't going to kill her. Junko would never kill her.

Because they were going to create this new world together. They were going to maintain it and cultivate despair and havoc side by side. The queen and her bodyguard. The mastermind and her right-hand servant.

"I'll do better, Junko." she vowed, and despite how badly her voice shook, how she had to strain to swallow the lump in her throat, her conviction was as firm as ever. "I'll figure out how to fix this. I'll learn how to speak with- How to 'flirt' with him. I promise you, I will do anything necessary to protect your reputation!"

" _ Anything? _ " A hint of a smile was splitting Junko's face, and her stomach flipped. There were not many things that evoked such a response. Wild beasts, gunmen surrounding her, being captured and tortured behind enemy lines, the idea of her own demise didn't make her flinch. But when Junko Enoshima smiled, when the white cheshire grin that haunted her nightmares came out to play, a foreign feeling ate away at her. Was it fear? Despair? Something stronger, something unidentifiable. Something that unsettled her to her very core and set every nerve on edge… Something that made her heart pound, faster and faster...

"Anything." Junko did not ask for her confirmation, didn't want or need it, but she gave it anyways. Because she had to confirm her devotion to her master. At every turn, every chance she could, she had to make sure her loyalty was never questioned.

Junko always said that the world, and everything in it, belonged to Junko Enoshima.

Everyone and everything _existed_ _for_ Junko Enoshima.

She was no different.

She wanted nothing more than for those two things to be true. She had no desire beyond those two things.

They were the only two facts that mattered. The two truths that had governed her life and every decision she'd made since her beloved sister was born into this world. A world that was destined to be remolded in her image.

"Then next time you see the redhead, don't be a dimwit and fuck his brains out! And by that, I mean let  _ him _ fuck  _ you _ , obviously." Junko clarified. "He has to stay alive until one of our cute little classmates kills him, you know? After he dies,  _ then _ you can fuck his brains if you want to." 

She didn't protest, she didn't defy orders. She would never think, never  _ dream _ of defying orders, especially Junko's. Junko's word was law, in a world where the actual law meant nothing. Junko's word was greater than God.

Still. She found she was having trouble forming the words to convey her enthusiasm. Her breath kept catching in her throat, and the temperature of the room seemed to have doubled.

"I… I'll… let him…" She couldn't think. She shouldn't have been incapacitated like this, but her very being seemed to have ground to a halt. The shock was paralyzing. Not the request itself, she didn't care who used her as long as it accomplished Junko's goals and spared her good name, but… Maybe it  _ was _ the request. Because… Because…

"You  _ understand _ , right?" Junko cooed, leaning down to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You're playing a bombshell in a high school of desperate losers! It just comes with the territory." Junko shrugged "I mean, if one of those  _ adorable _ boys or girls wants to get a little handsy with me... I may not be in fucking porn magazines, but I still have a reputation for being sultry, y'know? We can't have my sexy tits slandered because you were too much of a prude to strip! The jig would be up! And then my plan,  _ our brilliant plan _ , is fucked, because  _ you _ wouldn't fuck!"

"My apologies, Junko. You're right…" she murmured, bowing her head.

"Duh! Of course I am, dumbass!"

"It's just…" Those two hesitant words slipped from her traitorous tongue before she could stop them, and she found herself hoping Junko  _ would _ just go ahead and cut it out. At least then she'd be forced to swallow her… it wasn't a protest. It  _ wasn't _ a protest, it was just… 

" _ Oooh _ , what's  _ thiiiisss?!? _ " Junko's eyes went wide, exaggerated shock coating a porcelain face. Her sister leaned in, knocking on her head until it stung. "Is that rusty ol' hamster wheel actually  _ turning?!? _ Is an actual,  _ sentient thought _ trying to form in your rotten little skull?!?" Junko laughed, and as usual, it was equal parts amusement and threat. "Well? Go on then,  _ Pukeuro _ , spit it out! Don't be shy! Tell me what's  _ so incredibly important _ that it warrants interrupting me..."

Junko was looking at her so expectantly, settling down to lay her stomach on the floor and resting her cheek on one fist, long legs kicking idly behind her. It reminded her of all the times they'd been sitting in the playroom, or at someone's middle-school sleepover, and she'd made the mistake of giving her opinion, unwanted commentary from someone too inexperienced to give it. Junko would sit and listen, and explain so  _ patiently  _ why she was wrong before she was punished or humiliated in front of everyone. 

She had to work up the nerve. Junko would help her, Junko would understand. Junko would clarify whatever this was, whatever was preventing her from performing her duties. She just had to confide in her first. 

Inhaling slowly, she made sure to look Junko in the eyes as she gathered her thoughts. "It's not that I don't want to. If it's part of the mission, then of course I want to." she clarified first, although whether her sister would accept it or accuse her of lying remained to be seen. "It's just… I don't think-"

"You've got that right…" the blonde snickered, reaching out to jab at her shoulder. She ignored it.

"I'm not sure that particular task is something I can accomplish to your standards."

"Well duh, but he's stupid. All teenagers are freakin' stupid, especially when they're horny. I could probably put a blonde wig on a dog and they'd think it was the best lay they ever got. Which is why I'm choosing you- the closest pet I have!"

"It's not just about the acting." Although that was also going to be incredibly difficult to pull off... "It's… I'm not… My training didn't cover fornication." she finally spat out. Which was definitely the worst and most awkward way to word it, but it was the only way she could bring herself to say anything at all. "I don't want to tarnish your reputation further. This particular mission… Maybe it would be safer if you did it yourself…?" It was a risk to even suggest something to the mastermind, but it was also a risk to attempt this by herself- a bigger risk than the real Junko slipping out to interact with their classmates for a brief while. She awaited her sister's response with bated breath and a heavy heart. 

Junko only started laughing again. Laughing so hard that she rolled onto her back, kicking her legs and clutching her stomach. It took several minutes for her to calm down and catch her breath, wiping a stray tear from her eye. Junko sat up slowly, leaning in close and studying her. 

"Is  _ that _ all you're worried about? You idiot…" Junko shook her head, with a smile on her lips that almost looked  _ fond. _ "I already knew you were a virgin. I mean, seriously, it's obvious. That's  _ why _ this is such a great mission for you! I could have all the sex I want in this place, but here I am, being your uber-generous, ultra-benevolent sis and throwing you a free bone! For crying out loud, you should be  _ excited! _ " The blonde grinned at her, and she wished she knew how to force one on and send it back. It was hard enough smiling at their classmates all day, and her mouth was sore. Not that she could summon up much pep anyways. 

Junko was right. She  _ was _ an idiot to be nervous instead of eager. But what else was new? She was broken, they both knew that. Outside of her special talent, there was always going to be extra work involved with learning new skills or situations…

"I appreciate that." she finally managed, nodding once. "But if I fail-"

"Fail? All you have to do is-"

"Your reputation-"

"Ughhh, you're stuck on this like a broken record!" Junko groaned. Rolling her eyes, her sister crossed her arms. "If you're so obsessed with what I'm like in the bedroom, maybe you should just come watch next time!" she sneered, her tongue slithering out. 

Before she could formulate a response, Junko suddenly leapt to her feet, her eyes glowing with energy. " **_THAT'S IT!_ ** " she screeched, a manic grin splitting her cheeks. 

"What is, Junko?"

"Come over here. I'm gonna teach you how to make panties drop.~"

~~~

As expected, though perhaps in an unexpected way, Junko had the answers to her problems. She was ready to guide and educate her in the ways of the feminine world, as usual. Once they'd clarified what they had time for and what she could reasonably practice on her own later, Junko instructed her to sit back down on the floor of the control room. She complied, and Junko settled down directly across from her.

"Y'know how when you first learn to masturbate ya do it in front of a mirror?" Junko queried, and she nodded. "This is gonna be like that. You're my mirror, so match everything I do. Facial expressions, body language, all of it. Then you'll see what it looks like when Junko Enoshima gets her groove on!"

This was uncomfortable. Not the floor, she was used to sitting there, but everything else. This was a violation of Junko's privacy. And a violation of her own privacy. She didn't lose her composure, or her blank expression, but her cheeks were burning. 

"Mukuro,  _ relax _ . This is like when I taught you to kiss in the closet for our thirteenth birthday. You were fine with that once you got over being so awkward at the beginning, yeah?"

"I… suppose."

"It's just like that. Mimic what I do, got it?"

"Affirmative."

"Okay. So imagine somebody is feeling you- AKA  _ me _ , up. What do you see in the mirror?" 

With that question posed, Junko sighed softly, winking at her once before she got to work. 

"How does it feel to have sex with the most beautiful woman in the world, baby?" The blonde airhead giggled, batting her eyelashes. However, a darkness settled in those blue eyes astonishingly easily, her voice taking on a sultry purr. "You've seen my magazine covers, but now it's time for the triple-X show!~" 

What few buttons hadn't already been opened were popped, one-by-one, with quick pricks of Junko's nails. With every slow, deliberate snap, the valley between the hills widened, the cool air of the room bringing goosebumps across unmarked skin. Just before the last button could be undone, she reached back up to twirl the tie around her fingers coyly. The silken material ran across her hand and between her digits with ease, and she let herself caress it, dragging her grip all the way to the end before she brought it back, hooking one finger into the knot around her neck. An experimental tug forced her lips to part just slightly, her chest raising with the hitched intake of breath. 

And then she was free, yanking it off and tossing the offending collar away and diving for the final button. Her hands clawed at her uniform layers, tearing them aside until her stomach and chest could breathe. Her disheveled clothing framed her breasts nicely, she noted with satisfaction, tracing the frame tenderly. 

"Like what you see?" Junko giggled, a teasing grin accompanying half-lidded eyes. "You can get a little rough, you know. I know about the rumors… They won't pop.~"

Every experimental squeeze seemed to confirm that, and the blonde revelled in the attention, arching into each touch. When a finger brushed her areola, her eyes flickered closed.

"Keep yours open, or you won't be able to see, dumbass..." Junko muttered, just in time to prevent her from making that exact mistake. Unable to speak past the growing tightness in her throat, she simply kept watch to see what was happening next.

Touches once tender and exploratory swiftly became teasing, even malicious. They rubbed without mercy until hardened nipples emerged, thumb and forefinger on either side pinching and pulling at them. Occasionally, the tip of a nail would flick them, bringing a surprised gasp from parted lips to interrupt the moans. It was like a quick electric shock, shooting straight through her nerves and down between her legs. 

Just when her breasts were aching (and the rest of her was longing for more), red nails began to trace lower, lightly dragging across her skin. Never hard enough to scratch, the Ultimate Model could never be marred, but it made her skin tingle and her heart dance faster all the same. It curved down her sternum and caressed her taut stomach, every muscle rippling beneath Junko's featherlight touch. When it reached her skirt's waistband, it slipped a finger inside, toying with the elastic for a moment, then let it snap against her. She moaned again, the pitch shifting into a whine of disappointment. 

Junko's pout left her mouth quickly, replaced by one, two, three fingers, slowly sinking in, her lips humming around them. Careful not to scrape her tongue on the acrylics, she worked her way around each one, suckling and licking until they were coated in saliva. When she pulled them out, her tongue lolling in an open mouthed pant, a miniscule trail was stuck to her lip, the light of the console room shining through the strand.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she adjusted her position, spreading her legs and leaning back slightly. The skirt was flicked up and out of the way by the dry hand, and the waistband of her barely-there panties was pulled down slowly, sensually...

This felt strange. She'd yet to really investigate down there since Junko had made her wax everything bare. The skin had only really healed in the last week, and while she'd admittedly thought about it in curiosity, she'd never had the time (or nerve) to go through with it. She'd worn skirts for school before, but not this short, and not with her legs completely smoothed, and with her scars covered in waterproof makeup. It was a foreign body, and she'd never felt so vulnerable.

Her reflection's eyes were boring into her, with a smirk that was growing wider with every heartbeat. Her fingers formed a 'V' and pulled delicate pink folds apart. A blooming rose if she'd ever seen one, with the faintest trail of nectar already seeping out. Careful to only use the pad of her thumb, Junko sought out the bud at the top, caressing it fondly. 

Every stroke sent another shudder up her spine, her breath growing uneven. Her eyes threatened to slip closed, but she fought the impulse, even as her strokes grew rougher, sloppier. Waves of pleasure washed through her, her hands trembling as she started to dip a cautious finger inside. 

"God, your cunt's wetter than a slobbering dog's mouth… Which makes sense, since you're always looking at me like a slobbering dog."

Her hand froze mid-stroke, the flames that had started to stoke in her stomach wavering. In one icy breath, Junko had threatened to blow them out. "I-I do?"

"Oh come on, don't try to play dumb, you dumbass! This is your freakin' wet dream, isn't it? I've seen the way you used to sneak peeks when I was changing. You thought you were quiet in the bathroom, or under your covers at night, but I could totally hear you rubbing one out. In love with your own sister…" Junko broke from her position and leaned forwards, all big eyes and a pouting mouth as she put on her cutesie persona. "Youw sweet, innowcent _wittlew sistew_!" As the aching, burning shame crept into her core, a sharp cackle erupted from the true blonde, echoing around the room. " **YOU** **SICK,** ** _TWISTED_** **FUCK!!!** " The snake's tongue hissed at her, and the worst part was, it only stoked the fires in her core to burn hotter. She wanted that tongue deep between her legs, no matter how much nausea churned in her stomach. "God knows I've done some messed up shit, but at least I never fantasized about _molesting_ a little girl! You are _so_ goddamn gross!"

She could argue with Junko. She could point out that, yes, while she was the older of them, they were in the same grade, for one. That they were twins. She could point out that if their goal was to create a world of beautiful despair, a world without any morals, then there technically wouldn't be any laws about incest anymore. Or same sex relationships. And even if there were, when had they  _ ever _ cared about following laws, or the social rules of common decency?

But she said none of those things. She said nothing, letting the lashing whip that was Junko Enoshima's seductive, acidic voice strip away every part of her. She took every fresh mark against her pride, let her sister rip her apart until there were tears on her cheeks and her chest felt like it was bleeding. 

And then, she found the pain in her chest belonged to the black, high-heeled boot pinning her to the floor. Junko leered over her, and she tried to keep her eyes on the face above instead of the naked mound the skirt had ridden up to reveal. 

"You really do love being  _ my bitch _ , don't you?" Junko sneered. "That's the difference between us.  _ I  _ take charge. All  _ you _ know how to do is serve whoever's holding you by the collar." And Junko probably would have choked her by the collar too, if only they didn't have to avoid visible bruising. "Even now, you were only touching yourself because I ordered you to. I bet you haven't done anything in this outfit yet, even though you were itching to… Why not?" 

She couldn't find an answer, not one that would make sense to Junko, at least. It was just as well that she couldn't, because Junko didn't give her a chance to speak. Instead, the boot's weight was suddenly removed from her, and her sister dropped down to a crouch, snatching both of her wrists with one hand and pulling them over her head. She could have broken out of the grip as easily as breathing. Well, more easily, because breathing, it seemed, was suddenly a herculean task. She didn't break from Junko's grip. 

"You really are useless for everything except for fighting..." Junko sighed, looking incredibly disappointed, boredom draining whatever flush sex had brough to her cheeks earlier. Empty blue eyes stared down. "We'll never teach you anything at this rate. It's not sinking through your thick skull… You were sloppy and too forceful, you didn't match my face at all. Even porno actors would think you looked stupid and over the top."

"Sorry."

"Shut up. I don't wanna hear your mouth open unless it's a fucking orgasm."

She didn't speak, but the confusion in her gaze was enough for Junko to grace her with an answer. A bespectacled, impartial stare greeted her, the woman pulling up her skirt and yanking her thighs apart in a rather clinical manner. "In the name of education, I will be coaching you through the art of intercourse today. Provide your best effort, as you will be graded. The lesson begins  _ now _ ."

Without any further warning, one of Junko's fingers dove between her legs, pulling a hitch from her throat.

"I'd go get a dildo from the MonoMonoMachine for accuracy, but that's more coin and work than you're worth. You can get one yourself to try later." Junko commented offhandedly, plunging a second finger in and performing a scissoring motion. "But I guess this means this'll count for both kinds of practice, so at least we're knocking that out."

That wasn't very sensual talk, but it didn't phase her. She was too distracted by the pulses working their way through her, her abdomen and thighs shuddering with each movement. Her eyes fluttered closed, and this time she allowed it to better focus on the sensations and what little imagination she had to work with. When a third finger slipped in to stretch her, a grunt slipped out, her wrists tensing under the grip they were held in. She wanted to touch her chest again, or maybe her throat. 

She couldn't, and as Junko kept working her, slowly and methodically, a deep groan crawled from her throat, followed by heady pants. Sweat was coating her body, and she thrashed in place despite herself, bucking and twisting. She wasn't fighting Junko, but she was a fighter by nature, and she couldn't stay in place with adrenaline like this rushing through her veins. Junko was taking her higher and higher, occasionally whispering sweet nothings or berating her with dirty talk, the tone and intent switching as rapidly as her mood-swings. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, and she could hardly stand it.

" **_Fuck._ ** " she grunted, the word nearly strangled by the growl in her throat.

"Too low! You're disgusting, you sound like a guy!" Junko snapped, spitting on her face. If she couldn't draw bloody welts or slap her in the mouth, a wad of saliva oozing down her cheek would have to do as punishment. Her tone was a glacier by the next sentence. "I'm not some fuckin' brute. Go higher." 

It was a cold, casual command, completely at odds with the ache blazing throughout her body, her sopping heat squelching with every pump of her sister's fingers. Junko shoved her digits in deeper with a firm thrust, indifferent to the long nails scraping against the walls. All of the lubrication and pleasure humming through her still wasn't enough to numb the pain, and a strangled yelp escaped her lips before she could stop herself. 

" _ Sell it. _ " the blonde chided, curling her claws with a gentleness that lacked any meaning. The tips of those nails caressed upwards, tracing lightly over flesh and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Her voice pitched into a keen as she tried to raise up, tried to flinch away. The faintest traces of tears began to slip down her face, washing a trail through the drying saliva, and her body shuddered. "What's my name?  _ Call my name, baby…~ _ " 

Seductive breath brushed her earlobe, and she had time to marvel at the feeling of the body pressing against hers, hovering over and holding her down, for only a moment. In the next, something dove deep inside, reaching until they could scrape at the bundle of nerves she'd only managed to reach herself once. A tactical maneuver, the nuclear option, and by all that was unholy, it shook her to her core. Shockwaves rippled through her, scorching every inch until there was nothing left unravaged in its wake. Pain and adrenaline boiled in equal measure. She felt her own blood, warm and dripping. Her lungs were devoid of oxygen, her ears were ringing, her vision grew hazy. She barely heard the scream torn from her panting mouth, but it sounded foreign. Feminine, desperate, and so high with self-indulgence that she wagered that girl didn't have a care in the world. Whimpering, pathetic, nothing more than a pliable, pretty fuck toy.

_ Is this how she feels- or pretends to, at least? _

" **_Junko~_ ** "

It fell so perfectly off of her lips, dripped from her lolling tongue and beamed from a giddy smile. Her back had arched, she realised, attempting to show off breasts even though the padding had long ago slipped down and fallen somewhere into her shirt, her body moving on its own to ensure she was as close as physically possible as she rode out the sensations. She was fizzy, airheaded, unable to stop the heavenly sighs as she kept riding the presence still resting inside her, wrapping her legs around a sturdy back. She wanted more, she wanted  _ everything _ , one hand slowly clasping over her mouth, both to hide her grin and to bite at her own fingers. She stared up at the blurry figure with half-lidded eyes, delirious.

_ I want to feel like this all the time… _

To feel special. Wanted. To finally have her needs met, even if she had to bleed to do it.

**Especially** if she had to bleed to do it.

_ I'll bleed for you. I'll bleed for you a hundred times over, if it feels like this. _

Slowly, she was catching her breath, coming down from the high. Slowly, her senses were returning. The room around them was returning. 

The hand inside her was yanked out without ceremony and curled into a fist. The wielder reared back and rushed forwards, stopping it just above her lips. Shaking with rage it couldn't properly unleash, it mashed itself into her mouth, and she complied, suppressing the urge to gag as it rooted around. Violently, it snatched at her tongue, the nauseating mix of her own cum and bloody copper blending together, and those razorblade accessories jabbed themselves into the flesh.

" _Leon._ " Junko snarled, her features twisted beautifully by murderous intent and disgust. Ice shot through her veins. She calmly increased her inhales through her nose to avoid vomiting. "You were _supposed_ to say _LEON_!!!" A childish screech nearly deafened her, boomed around the room. Like the cooling of lava after an eruption though, Junko's demeanour shifted swiftly. Letting go of her tongue, the blonde raised up with all the maturity of the authority figure she was now representing. The professor's appearance had been smoothed in an instance, the opposite of her own disheveled costume. "You have failed the core of the lesson. Your performance was inferior. Graceless. Tactless. It is regrettable… you started out rather promising. But you lost sight of the goal…

Her sister tucked the glasses in her breast pocket and huffed, spitting criticism at her as she began to storm off.

"You're  _ Junko _ , you dumbass cunt."

Just a costume. She could never hold a candle to Junko.

Not even the fake Junko, the bubbly bimbo whose only job was to get railed by the high school baseball stud.

"All you had to do was cum and act grateful. And you couldn't even do  _ that _ right. What a worthless bitch. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother keeping you around…"

"Because you don't want to get blood on your boots." she offered, and despite the firm way it was spoken as she lunged forward and scooped her sister into a bridal carry, preventing her from stepping in the droplets on the floor, it was a question. A plea for confirmation.

Junko laughed, an airy sound equal parts amused and exasperated. She threw her head back with a wide grin and shaking chest, her golden pigtails swinging with the motion and spilling gloriously over her shoulder. Her sister reached over with her unsoiled hand, stroking the top of her head and scratching, for the first time today, without drawing blood. A queen and her guard-dog.

" _ Yeah.. _ ." her sister sighed, blue eyes roving over her, an oddly serene smile gracing glossed lips. "I guess that's why… I guess that's a good enough reason for today."

For today. Not tomorrow. Not forever. Just for today.

That was the most that the ever unreadable, ever unpredictable, ever despairful Junko Enoshima could offer. 

After they had stepped past the messy patch of floor, she set her sister down. Her posture, try as she might to resist, had already gone back to that of a soldier, and she struggled to relax. She tried to melt like she had melted before, into the lackadaisy blonde she had been mere minutes ago, but it was impossible. Junko studied her nails for broken pieces, not speaking, not acknowledging her. 

Unsure which voice to use, she settled for something awkward and inbetween. Stilted, but with a hint of a giggle slipping through. "Do you want me to… You didn't get to…" She coughed against her suffocating heartbeat, then tried again. "Would you like me to satisfy you?" 

"You couldn't satisfy me, Mukuro." Junko scoffed, not moving, not looking up from the drying mixture on her hand. "Even when you're me, I'm the only one who can get the job done right. Get back to your dorm and fix yourself up pretty and proper before some poor loser sees you. And God help you, you'd better practice during your free time. I don't tolerate mistakes." 

"Understood." she murmured, bowing once before opening the heavy metal door and exiting the room. She didn't look back as the door slammed shut. It was a simple task to sneak back through the floors and past her peers unnoticed, an action she could perform on autopilot, and soon enough she was back in the dorm room. It was only when she caught the reflection of the girl in the lavatory mirror that she startled. 

The girl staring back at her wasn't Junko, of course, but it certainly wasn't Mukuro either. Because this girl looked absolutely heartbroken, hollow eyes brimming with tears that instantly spilled over, splattered onto the sink counter with each heaving sob. Heaving that was followed by the thinnest spitting-up of bile before she lost her grip on the porcelain. She could have punched it, shattered it with a single kick, and the shards would have cut her all over.

None of that pain compared to her grip going slack, shaking hands scrabbling for purchase before she plummeted to the floor, her legs giving out from under her.

Even in earthquakes and the most volatile warzones, she had always kept her footing. 

But here she was, curled up on the tile cradling her chest. Her plain, cold chest, heaving for air that wouldn't come. Her shoulders were numb, everything hurt, heavy throbbing and a stab so sharp she cried out, agonized wails pawing at the walls of her soundproof prison. Her voice petered out too quickly, reduced to broken whimpers and sniffles, and she clawed at her hair,  _ her _ hair, not the wig lying askew.

**_'You couldn't satisfy me, Mukuro…'_ **

That was the bullet wound that was going to end her. That was the dagger sitting in her heart, twisted with every look, every tug, every sentence. 

Junko needed her. Junko liked her, sometimes. Junko wanted her around. Junko  _ wanted _ her, sometimes. Like today.

But Junko didn't love her. Would never love her, no matter what she did. Junko couldn't even pretend to love her. 

Because she was born unloveable.

It made perfect sense.

But love didn't make sense. Emotions didn't make sense. They'd never made sense to her.

She loved Junko. She loved Junko more than anything in this miserable, beautiful, despairful world. 

Which was why Junko had done this. Why Junko Enoshima, the most brilliant woman, the most brilliant being in the world, had done this to her.

In one move, Junko had given her the gift of feeling. Finally, she could feel and understand emotions. Like love. 

And that was detrimental. The antithesis of everything Mukuro Ikusaba was. 

She could finally feel something,  _ everything _ , but only for the one person who would never return them, who could use them for any number of sadistic whims. 

It was the Ultimate Despair. 

Junko Enoshima had realized that the greatest punishment she could give, the most brutal despair she could offer, wasn't a physical wound, or mental abuse, or plotting to kill a certain brunette classmate.

The greatest punishment was unrequited love, from a pitiful creature who wouldn't know any better than to keep jumping through hoops for eternity to obtain it.

And she would keep jumping. Even now, as she sobbed and screamed on the floor, tearing off any of Junko's resemblance left clinging to her. Even now, as she crawled into the shower and turned on water that, while mild at best, burned like acid against her bare skin, made her cry out when she fumbled for a cloth to try and dab at her internal wounds, she knew she would keep jumping.

Despite everything, she wanted to,  _ had to _ keep jumping.

Mukuro Ikusaba, the cold black guard-dog. Knock-Off Junko, the plucky white rabbit.

They would jump through flaming rings, leap into false death traps to perform the ultimate vanishing act... Anything necessary for their master, for the puppeteer pulling the world's strings.

The world, and everything in it, belonged to Junko Enoshima.

Everything and everyone  _ existed for _ Junko Enoshima.

She was no different.

She would clean herself up, put on whichever mask was needed for her given tasks tomorrow, and play her part perfectly. She would perform, over and over, and bleed as much and as many times as needed. As many times as  _ wanted _ . She wouldn't make mistakes, and she would see how Junko, ever unpredictable, felt tomorrow...

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment (anon is also fine) or kudos, I love hearing from you all!) Have a lovely day, and please try to stay safe ❤


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